I Can't See Art

Where there is impotence to gray skies
failure never meets abstracted youth.
In dreary, ill-lit rooms
eyes easily see Art:
unzipped and
sighs only;
you are mine.

An ocean trembles of guilt, aching
that it won’t bear and bends faithfully
with hot sea-salt tears and
she prays to let love be.
You’re not here.
Stuck in my
reverie.